So What Now?
by Doxa1
Summary: This is a post 8x06 fictional work that explores certain loose ends that weren't tied. Daenerys is brought back to life. She's a mother. Jon is on the other side of the continent. Back where they both started. It's a slow burn story, but it won't crawl (I promise).
1. Chapter 1

**DAENERYS**

She jolted awake and looked around in panic. Her hysteria grew when she saw that she was in a

dark room lit with candles and surrounded by people wearing red hoods chanting something in a

strange tongue that she had never heard before.

"You're awake," someone said. A woman with a soft voice and a musical lilt with each word she

said. "Your dragon brought you to the Dothraki sea. We were already waiting for you."

Her heart beat faster and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt a sharp pain close to her

heart. Shaky fingers reached for her heart and she felt a scab. Her mind flooding with of memories

that would soon rather forget;

_She was in the throne room which was destroyed, she saw the symbol of the power of her House,__Jon...Jon Snow._

_He...he stabbed me_. As soon as that thought took root in her mind, she burst into laughter. She threw

her head back and laughed. It was a terrible sound even to her own ears. When her laughter

subsided, she scanned the room once more. It wasn't really a room, she noticed. It was a tent and

there were twelve people around her. Twelve people in red. Twelve Red Priests and Priestesses.

Servants of the Red god.

The one who looked to be the leader cocked her head. It was eerie, but after what had happened to

her, nothing scared her anymore.

"The Lord of Light brought you back as a reward for being one of his champions against the Great

Other."

Dany heard her, but her mind was in Westeros...along with her heart and soul.

_He killed me. I gave him the entirety of me and... he killed me._

Dany never let herself be seen as she truly was with people she didn't know, but in this tent, she was

as naked as the day she was born and she didn't have it in her to be strong anymore so she buried her

face in the palms of her hands and she wept. From the deepest trenches of whatever was left of her,

she wept.

**KINVARA**

She was older than most of the known world. She had been alive when the First Men had left for

Westeros and when Valyria was the ruling empire of the world. She'd seen its doom. She had seen

the rise and fall of many kingdoms, fiefdoms and empires. She had seen hope and she had seen

despair. She had seen victory and triumph. She had been kept alive by the mercies of the Lord of

Light and one of the greatest miracles that she had ever seen or heard of was the Mother of Dragons

coming out of the pyre she had lit unscathed. Not even the most powerful of them had experienced

that wonder.

Daenerys Stormborn was special. The Chosen One. And she had done what the Lord

had rebirthed her to do. That is why she had been taken aback by what she saw in the flames merely

two moons ago. She had informed her people and they had set out to Vaes Dothrak to await the

return of the Dragon Queen.

When the dragon had brought them her lifeless body, they stripped her of all she was wearing and

got to work.

_A girl_, Kinvara had thought. The formidable mother of dragons looked nothing more than a

flowering girl as she lay lifeless on the stones.

She was small of stature and had a beauty so striking,

it made one's heart ache. The last scion of Old Valyria and House Targaryen. Kinvara had caressed

her cheek lovingly and sorrowfully while she chanted in an ancient tongue. The other eleven priests

and priestesses had joined in.

A little while after that, the silverhaired queen had shot up looking frantic and with a mad glint in her

eye; looking around to get familiar with her surroundings and when all seemed fine, she laughed. It

wasn't a sound of mirth. It was a broken song. That sound soon changed to one of anguish and

bitterness.

Her heart went out to the Queen. All she saw was a young girl who had nothing to live for anymore.

Many lifetimes ago, in a world so far away that she could barely remember, she had known a broken

heart and she knew then like she knew now that only a broken heart could express such pain and

despair. The utter loneliness of it made her wave the others away while she waited for the Queen to

cry to her heart's content. Nothing she could say would make it better. But maybe having someone

with no ill intentions towards her would provide some much needed comfort for Daenerys.

Dany never let herself be seen as she truly was with people she didn't know, but in this tent, she was

as naked as the day she was born and she didn't have it in her to be strong anymore so she buried her

face in the palms of her hands and she wept. From the deepest trenches of whatever was left of her,

she wept.

TORMUND

"Snow. Ice. Fire. Dragons. Dany...," those words kept being repeated over and over again in the same dull tune. Like a prayer. It was happening more frequently as time went by. Usually, it was either accompanied by a chuckle or a sob. He worried for his friend.

Jon thought he didn't know about his midnight treks into the forest, but he'd been keeping a keen eye on the lad since he returned from the south to where he truly belonged; with the Free Folk.

Jon wasn't the same man who had left to go south with the Dragon Queen. There was something dark and hollow that had returned with him. Something that didn't belong in him and if it wasn't closely watched, it could transform into a disease that would eat him alive from the inside.

Tormund sighed. Women. He too had lost a great love. The big woman. He tried to cheer Jon up with his own stories of wronged love, but those words were wasted on deaf ears. He would never have known what had happened if he hadn't forced Jon into drinking fermented goat's milk one night. That night, a very drunk Jon had loose lips and what a tale those lips spoke of. It had horrified Tormund for his sake. Not because killing lovers was unheard of, but because it killed something so true to Jon that where the man once was, only a husk remained.

He had seen the Dragon Queen. She didn't look like she belonged in Westeros. She didn't look like she belonged in this world. In Winterfell, she had looked as out of place as the Others had in the realms of men. She had a strange sort of beauty. But she had made his little crow happier than he could remember. She had looked at him like he was her whole world. But that love wasn't enough and when it was time to choose, love had to die to save the seven kingdoms.

Tormund didn't understand that type of honour, but it was something that had broken his friend. Something that was clawing away at his mind. Something that made him wander deeper and farther away from their travelling group more often than not. He wished he could change it, but the torment was Jon's alone to bear and it was something that clung to Jon even tighter than his furs. Something that brought out a wildness in him as it pushed away the humanity that had made him such a great king. Madness and humanity fought to possess him and more and more, Jon gave in to the madness just so he could be with his Dany.

JON

He felt the presence of Ghost before he heard him come to settle down near him. Jon could taste the blood of his kill on his tongue. He was getting better at warging. It was the only time he wasn't haunted by Dany's ghost. His body might be withering away, but his belly was always full. Ghost nudged him with his snout and he absently scratched the direwolf behind its ear.

She was here with him again. His breath hitched when he remembered her look of childlike wonder and absolute trust in him before he...

He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. Not even to himself and so he began his conversation with her to tell her how he was and to ask her how she was doing like he should have done when she was still the Dany he knew, but all he could say was, "Snow. Ice. Fire. Dragons. Dany...,"

He shut his eyes tight at the mention of her name. He willed himself to remember her. All of her. Her smile. Her will. Her voice. Her body.

She had commanded great authority, but whenever she was alone with him, she'd let the mask drop and he had seen that there was still an innocence and idealism to her. He smiled despite himself. She was talking to him now. Teasing him in High Valyrian. That mischief in her eyes. He reached out to comb through her beautiful hair. Full and soft and silky.

He used to loosen her braids and grab her hair to expose her neck to his tongue and teeth. He loved had loved - how tiny she was. She fit just right with him. He wasn't a tall man, but he towered over Dany and was big enough to overcome her space whenever they got intimate with one another.

Her smell... What did she smell like? He searched his brain, but that piece of information was just out of his reach. He got up and ran to his tent; throwing things out of his trunk until he got to one of the ties she used to use for her hair. He inhaled deeply. Exotic oils, lavender and lemons. He clutched the tie and held it closely to his heart.

Her heart. He remembered that as well. Sweet Dany with a heart as selfless as anyone could have. That's where I stabbed her.He thought as his face contorted in pain. He stumbled out of the tent and went straight for the woods again. This time he retched.

He took a swig of wine from the animal skin that was never far from him and rinsed his mouth.

I did the right thing, he affirmed to himself. She was...she was going to murder more innocent lives and I had to do my duty. I needed to. I needed...Dany!

His thoughts always trailed back to her name. He called out to her again. He needed to see her. To be with her. To hear her voice. To tease her. To fuck her. To love her.

The voices in his head were becoming louder; regret, pain, justification, duty, honour, betrayal, lust, love, hate. All of it. Each one stronger than the last. Each one fighting for the ownership of his soul. He hated himself more than anything. And he hated her for what she had become and what she'd made him do.

_Silence_

The ground was soft and wet under his feet...no that wasn't right. Under his paws. He was Ghost and Ghost was him. Here, she couldn't haunt him. Here, he had peace.

**DAENERYS**

She was sore. From head to toe. She felt dead inside. She wished she had been left to rest in peace. For all she knew, she had been asleep. A dreamless sleep until Drogon intervened. Her whole body stung; from where the dagger had found its place to the claw marks on her body when Drogon carried her. At least she was clean. Bathed, clothed and cared for. It didn't matter. She felt the stickiness of death on her skin, still. A fresh wave of despair washed over her and she let it.

Kinvara, the First Servant of R'hollor, had hardly left her side. She always sat in silence observing Dany and tending to her in an almost motherly fashion.

What was it? A fortnight now? A moon's turn? It made no matter. Time was nothing if it all led to the same end.

They barely said words to each other, yet Dany was thankful for her presence.

"I failed," Dany began. "I failed the people who believed in me. Jorah, Missandei, Grey Worm...and when things got too hard, I held on too strongly and I destroyed everything. I murdered where I should have protected. The thing I feared the most befell me."

"Everything happens for a reason," Kinvara said calmly, "Whatever you did brought you here."

If she could, she would have laughed. That's what she used to tell herself, but look what happened. She'd lost her armies, her dragons, her friends, her dignity, her legacy, her life, her ... love. Because she believed in herself and her vision and would stop at nothing to bring it to realization.

Jon killed me, her breathing became heavier as she thought of him. He said he loved me. I trusted him and killed me.

"Yes, but now you're here. Alive. With a dragon and two more on the way," Kinvara said.

At first, Dany tried to remember if she had wondered aloud and then slowly, the Red Woman's words came alive in her.

_What_?

"What?"

"You're with child. With twins," Kinvara said with that strange smile of hers.

Dany's head spun until everything was black.


	2. Chapter 2

DAENERYS

She hissed in pain when a thorne of one of the dry shrubs scraped her skin. This again. She was back where she had started.

She walked aimlessly on a disappearing path that was slowly being overrun by ghost grass. She plucked several blades of the grass and smiled at memories of a past lifetime.

Moon of my life.She shut her eyes close to stop the tears from running. Drogo. She hadn't thought of him for some time. Not in years except sparingly and even more rarely when she'd sailed to Westeros.

Her heart constricted painfully. She shut the thought of Westeros down and focused on Drogo. It had been a nightmare in those early days, but they had grown to love each other. She'd found her strength with him and for that she was grateful. He'd also given her a child. Well, almost. She'd been overcome with the joy at the thought of being a mother at the time. Now, she didn't care.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to be happy about her current state. She already had one reminder of Jon on her. A permanent mark near her heart and now, not one, but two people who were half him were coming into the world through her.

She felt nothing, but the discomfort that came with being with child.

Moontea, that dark voice in her head whispered.

It repulsed her and the idea went away as quickly as it came.

Try as she might, no matter what lies she had to tell herself to muster up the courage to face each new day, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. She couldn't bring herself to rid of the fruit of their time together. Despite the lack of love or happiness she felt when it came to the children in her, she couldn't bring herself to let go of him no matter how much pain it brought her.

She touched the scar he gave her. A bitter memory, but a memory nonetheless.

Despite the betrayal she felt, she wasn't blind to the part she played in her downfall.

A bitter laugh escaped her.

She failed because she listened. She failed because everyone around her made her feel like she was her father. She failed because she feared becoming like her father and for that, she became indecisive. She failed because she wanted it all, had it all, but it all turned out too good to be true. She couldn't find it in herself to be angry with anyone or anything so she escaped into herself; into the void where she felt nothing and just stared blankly at the horizon.

BRAN

Murmurs of "Your Grace" filled the room as the council meeting ended.

Some of them on the council feared him. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the memories that life made.

His mind began to wonder again. He thought about the dragon and went to it.

There was a familiar presence there with it. He prodded further and saw a familiar face. Daenerys Targaryen. She was alive. In Essos. Surrounded by a malevolent presence. And she was heavy with child.

Jon's child,he thought. They have to know.

"Podrick," Bran called.

"Yes, m'lord? Pardon me...Your Grace."

"Gather the Council. I have something to tell them."

"Yes, Your Grace."

TYRION

With every word Bran said, Tyrion's heart fell. She was alive and with a living dragon. Pregnant with Jon's child and protected by Red Witches.

Just when he thought that the realm could finally have some peace.

Nothing had torn Westeros apart more than matters of succession. It's why Daenerys had begun her campaign all those years ago and now, not only was she alive, she had a child on the way. One that he knew she would stop at nothing to protect.

They both had to die.

Hypocrite, he chided himself. When all the world around him fell silent, he could admit the truth to himself. He'd only ever wanted to see the look on Cersei's face when he showed her that he had won. That there was another queen more worthy than she was. He wanted revenge for what his family did to him, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do anything because deep down, all he ever wanted was acceptance from his family and Daenerys had stood in the way of that.

He had taken advantage of Jon's honour and the absolute trust that Daenerys had had in Jon to eliminate her from the game. He, Tyrion, had been the beginning and cause of her downfall, that much he could admit.

He poured himself a glass of the arbor's finest and toasted to the gods for fucking him over one more time.

This news couldn't get to Jon. Bran had been following his brother. Unsurprisingly, the wildlings had taken him away from the Wall and accepted him as one of their own. Not even the honourable Jon Snow could sit alone in an ice waste for the rest of his life. But Bran had said that Jon was no longer Jon. The poor sod. He liked Jon Snow and in another life, he would have made a great king. He and Daenerys would have been a great pair for Westeros before everything fell apart.

In Bran's words, Jon was wasting away to grief and guilt. He still loved her and if word ever got to him about her, then only the gods could stop them from burning the world,hisworld, down in vengeance or misguided repentance.

"Jon can't know about this," Tyrion told Bran.

"Why?"

"They'll come for us."

"So what do you propose we do about her?" Ser Davos asked.

"The only thing wecando. Kill her," Samwell replied.

**THE ONION KNIGHT**

He was weary. Things had happened so quickly. The good and then the bad and then the unthinkable. He'd been wracked with guilt since the time that they had arrived in Winterfell.

The North hadn't taken to the Dragon Queen the way Jon Snow had. He'd seen how much of a blow it had been to her pride, but she bore it all for Jon's sake. Jon too had been put in a difficult position. The North had lost its respect for him, but he'd stood by what he thought was right because he truly believed in and loved his queen.

Davos had witnessed all the stages of the Jon and Daenerys union even until its bitter end. A simple marriage would have been the solution, but all his suggestions had fallen on the deaf ears of the Queen's counsellors. Sometimes, he wondered if they had brought her here just to destroy her.

Mayhaps he should have taken the matter to Jorah while he still lived. But he had thought it cruel to suggest such a thing to a man who was so clearly devoted to a woman who couldn't love him back as he did her.

Sometimes, he stayed up at night thinking of what could have been. An honourable man and a just woman. They were just what the realm needed to become better. They both had similar ideals and they were those rare leaders who cared about the common people. And wonder of all wonders, they had grown to deeply love each other. How the fuck did all that go to shit?

Ice and Fire.

Jon, to the best that he could, had been very open about where his heart and his loyalties had lain and that was no small feat when it came to the resistance that the North had offered. Daenerys, with her queer eastern ways, didn't care that the world watched when she held Jon's hands in council meetings when the lords of the North gave him an earful of how little they thought of him. With the world, she was an untouchable power, but with Jon, she was nought but a girl in love and that love had cost her everything in the end. She saved Westeros and died it's greatest foe.Or the foes of those who refused to relinquish power.

An unfair trade. One that he was complicit in. He could have done something, but he didn't.

Daenerys deserved better. And so did Jon. Jon had stopped at nothing to save mankind; he had lost his life and given up his crown to ensure that they all lived, yet he was exiled to the very place that had killed him.

He felt dirty thinking of all of it. He should have done something, said something, but he didn't. He'd watched in silence as everything fell apart and from the chaos that ensued, he'd risen higher than he ever had.

Life truly tests you. He'd always thought himself to be a man who stood up for righteous causes. It's why he had stayed with Stannis and why he had served Jon and by extension, Daenerys. But when it had mattered the most, he didn't pick righteousness. He'd picked himself. And now, that was all he had. Power wrapped in shame.

Now, he stood here with the same men who had been knowing and unknowing perpetrators in destroying Jon and Daenerys. They looked like good men and the way their words were framed supported their goodness, but it was all false. Underneath the goodwill was selfishness and greed. If they truly cared about the realms of men, then they would have put aside their differences and let Jon rule after the Queen had died. He was, afterall, the rightful heir. They would have let someone who had lived among the common people stand up for and represent the common people.

He didn't know that information until much later after Jon was exiled. King Bran had told him the truth of Jon's birth. He'd wanted to murder the crippled godking there and then, but he couldn't because it wouldn't change the past.

Bran could see everything, but thankfully, he couldn't see his thoughts.

Davos was getting old and didn't have it in him to play at the politics of the realm. It was a filthy game that blackened one's soul. He might not be able to stop them from going after Daenerys, but nothing would stop him from telling Jon the truth even if that meant he had to die doing the right thing.

Sam and Bran had told Jon the truth of his parentage just to destroy Daenerys. He would tell Jon the truth of his child if that meant giving him a chance at salvation because if there was someone who deserved peace, it was the man who had sacrificed everything to save everyone.

JON SNOW

"Avy jorrāelan," she whispered as she trailed her fingers through his hair.

She traced his face from his widow's peak to the tip of his nose to his lips and then stayed her fingers there; her thumb rubbing his lips gently. To and fro with a feather light touch.

Her fingers trailed down to his beared and she stroked it repeatedly. His cock got stiffer with each touch. It didn't matter that they'd exhausted themselves making love after a grueling day of endless council meetings.

Even with her eyes drooping shut, a sign of her succumbing to sleep, he could see the wealth of love she had there for him. No one had ever loved him as much as she did and he'd never loved anyone as much as he did her. It scared him to think of what her love would for him and what he would do to protect her.

Avy jorrāelan. He didn't need to understand what she was saying to know what she meant. It was how she said it.

"Dany."

"Hmm?"

"I love you too."

Just like he knew his confession would, it drove away the sleep from her eyes. She was wide awake now. Staring at him with all the vulnerability she had plain on her face. It made his heart ache. He wasn't one to wear or share his affections so openly because he believed that his actions told a better story than his words ever could, but she needed to hear this from him.

It wasn't much to offer, not to him, but he knew what it would mean to her to hear it from him and he wondered why he hadn't said so any sooner. It meant everything to him to see her happy.

He knew that she knew that he loved her. How many times had he stopped in the middle of their bouts of love making to simply stare and marvel at her? How many times had he sought her out just to soak in her company because he needed to be near her? He had given up his kingdom to and for her and he would do it again.

He was sure that the look on her face mirrored the one on his. He shifted closer until their lips touched and then he kissed her. He spread her lips apart with his tongue to taste her. She tried deepening the kiss, but he withdrew. He loved fucking her, but he enjoyed the quiet moments between them more. All he wanted to do at the moment was just be. With her. Both of them alone in her cabin shutting the rest of the world out. Saying things to each other without really saying anything.

He wanted to know her more. To see her in truth. And he wanted her to see him for what and who he really was. There was no room for perfection here. Only trust.

So he reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. He loved her hands. For all her flawlessness, they were the one part of her that told him things about her that she wouldn't share with anyone who didn't truly know her. At first glance, they were perfect, but when you looked more closely, you could see some calluses and scars.

The roughness there spoke of all the times she had to get her hands dirty doing things that some might find beneath royalty. Her hands also spoke of the experience she had garnered as the only dragon rider alive in close to two hundred years.

He turned opened her palm and kissed her there. Her breathing had gotten shallow and fast. He could feel the small puffs of air from her mouth on his face. He leaned his face as close to hers without them touching. Her eyes were hooded again, but this time, it had nothing to do with sleep.

They could easily fuck now, but this moment for him was more than that and he wanted to show her beyond a good rut in her bed, that he truly loved her. He let go of her hand and traced the features on her face. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

It was as intoxicating as it was perilous getting used to this. To see how a few words and his gentle ministrations could make her come undone before him. To see just how much power she let him have over her. The danger of Daenerys wasn't her dragons or her armies, it was her heart. Because he was beginning to realize that when she loved, she gave everything and if that love ever fell into the wrong hands, it could destroy the world.

He shook himself from such ominous thoughts. Her heart was safe with him just like he knew his was safe with her. Together, they would save the world, and maybe, even rule and bring about reform that was long overdue in Westeros.

It was no small realization at that moment that for the first time, he was thinking of a life after the Great War. A life with her. Love and Duty. It felt good. It felt right. If she would have him, he would always be with and for her. But he couldn't get ahead of himself. First, they had to survive the Long Night.

"Avy jorrāelan," he murmured.

Silence.

"Dany, avy jorrāelan," he said again, but this time a little louder.

Only silence followed and this time, it was deafening. A memory from long ago that had come to him as a dream. Why wouldn't she leave him alone? She was resting in peace now. Why wouldn't she allow him just a few moments of that same peace? She tormented him when he was awake, it wasn't too much to ask for respite in sleep.

He needed Ghost. His mind strayed until he found the only comforting presence that she had spared him and he felt himself relax and start to disappear once more.


End file.
